


Dream a Little Dream of Me

by SneakyToni



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Plot, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 18:37:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17565857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SneakyToni/pseuds/SneakyToni
Summary: Virgil isn't sure what the real world is anymore, but, he's absolutely sure of four things:1. Every night, he wakes up in a coffin-like container, and the voices outside of it are getting closer.2. The man who follows him around who drinks enough Starbucks to give anyone a heart attack knows about the dreams.3. Strange things are happening, and it feels like the universe doesn't trust itself anymore.4. He has a crush on Roman Prince, for better or for worse.Author's Note:I wrote this based off of an idea I had about the Sanders Sides having dreams...but finding each other in their dreams? Whatever. This fic is based on the vague knowledge I have about the Matrix, but besides them being in deep sleep in a fake world, almost nothing else is the same. I know it's bad, please don't judge me, this is my first fanfiction.





	Dream a Little Dream of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Slight mention of blood, bad dreams, and I really don't think there is anything super bad in this? Well, besides the point that it's a bad story. Make sure to let me know in the comments if something is spelled wrong or I forgot to add another warning. This is the first fanfiction that I'm publishing, so I'd really appreciate feedback. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

The darkness was so heavy, it seemed to be alive.  
Virgil’s eyes were open, but he couldn’t see anything. He was lying down, but he had a distinct impression that he shouldn’t move. The heavy thrum of constant working machinery vibrated in the darkness. To Virgil, it felt like he was floating through space, trapped but unweighted.  
He lifted up his hands and was greeted by a cold metal surface. He only had a millisecond to worry about where he was when the darkness was replaced by a blinding bright light. Alarms fired and the sound of machinery grew so loud his ears hurt, but through the din, Virgil swore he could almost hear the sound of angry screams outside-  
Virgil’s eyes flew open, his heart beat so rapidly he thought it might break out through his ribs. He gasped for breath and looked around his surroundings.  
It was his room. The same room he’d had for almost eighteen years now. His My Chemical Romance and Nightmare Before Christmas posters still hung in their exact same spots. Virgil’s dark curtains were drawn and the analog clock on his nightstand read 7:55.  
Crap! I’m late! Virgil thought.  
He threw off his blankets and pulled on a relatively clean outfit that he’d found on the floor of his (extremely) messy bedroom. Virgil flung open the door of his closet, grabbed his backpack and ran out the door of his room, through the hallway, down the stairs o, and out the kitchen door.  
His parent’s cars weren’t in the driveway, so that meant they thought he was at school already.  
A string of cuss words ran through Virgil’s mind as he made his way to the high school, none of which can be repeated in a family-friendly fanfiction.  
Had Virgil been running slower, or even been feeling a tad bit more like Sherlock and had been more observant, he would’ve noticed the man watching him.  
Truth be told, Virgil probably wouldn’t have noticed anything particularly strange about this man. He was white, had brown hair, he also wore sunglasses and a leather shirt. He also had a Starbucks to go cup in his hand, so nothing about him screamed ‘threatening’ in any way.  
All the same, this might’ve ended better for Virgil had he noticed.  
Now, forget I told you about the man, and focus back on Vigil as he runs as fast as a teenager who hates exercise can.  
Virgil careened around corners, dodged several passersby, and practically leaped up the stone steps of his school building. He sucked in several deep breaths before opening the doors and peering inside. Once he was satisfied with the absence of adults and fellow late students, he shut the door as quietly as possible.  
Virgil speed-walked toward his locker and was just about to attempt his combination when a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.  
He barely had time to suppress his shriek when he sighed in relief. It was only Mr. Sanders.  
Mr. Sanders, who had the reputation of being a fun and easy-going teacher, was also known for being sympathetic to the latecomers who wandered the halls before going to class.  
“Hi, Mr. Sanders.” Virgil tried for a smile and hoped it didn’t come across as a cross between a grimace and the face an angry raccoon might make.  
“Hello, Virgil. What are you doing out here?” Mr. Sanders replied pleasantly, albeit a little confused. “You’re always early, I don’t think you’ve been late since you were a freshman.”  
“Sorry, Mr.Sanders, I slept in too late,” Virgil admitted, tugging on his hoodie strings.  
“Don’t apologize to me, just make sure to give this to your teacher when you get to class, okay, Virgil?” Mr. Sanders handed him a pale blue paper with the words ‘Excused Absence’ written in bold at the top. “Just make sure this doesn’t become a regular thing.”  
Virgil grinned and thanked him, before turning around and walking to his locker.  
He barely made it five steps, however, before Mr. Sanders called out to him.  
“Oh, and Virgil?”  
Virgil turned around. “Um, yeah, Mr. Sanders?”  
The teacher eyed Virgil a little suspiciously. “You’ve got blood coming out of your ear.”  
Virgil blinked. His heart raced and his palms sweated. “Oh, I do? I’ll go wash it off.”  
“Are you sure? I can take you to the nurse.” Mr. Sanders offered.  
“No, thanks. I can handle this.”  
The teacher seemed to believe this and waved goodbye before walking away.  
However, this is where my opinions and Virgil’s differ, because Virgil in fact, could not handle this.


End file.
